X-Men: Generation Next Book I
by Magnetrix
Summary: This is the story of Charles Xavier and his students. They have suffered personal hardships throughout the years, and it almost destroyed them. But when he decides to reopen the school, everything starts to look up. But ghosts from the past refuse to stay dead, and Xavier finds himself having to make decisions he never thought he'd have to make again. First book in a series.
1. Chapter 1

X-Men: Generation Next

Disclaimer: X-Men and all related characters are the sole property of Marvel Comics. I'm just playing with them.

Also, do remember to review! I've never written something this big before and I would really appreciate some feedback. I would also like to take a moment to thank MarvelMaster616 for helping me plan this out. The riot scene in this issue was borrowed from his series, X-Men Supreme. I suggest you check that out, too. It's a fine read.

'These mean thought or psychic communication.'

[hr]

Issue 1: Decisions

[hr]

Evolution is defined as a change in a gene pool of a population from generation to generation through processes such as mutation, natural selection and genetic drift. The process of evolution usually takes thousands of years, but every so often evolution leaps forward.

Through the process of mutation, life evolves into a different state. Human beings are no exception to this sudden change. As a new year begins, mankind finds itself at an evolutionary crossroad. A new generation of humans has arisen. Born with extraordinary abilities that were once thought to only exist in fiction, these individuals are called mutants. These mutants are the next link in the evolution of the human species.

[hr]

Washington DC – six months ago

"What do we want?"

"No more mutants!"

"When do we want it?"

"Now!"

"Burn the mutants! Burn the mutants! Save the human race! Send the freaks to their grave!"

The heated chants of thousands of passionate citizens echoed through the streets of Washington DC. They were driven to protest against what they perceived to be the greatest threat against the human race, mutants. Many protesters held up signs that read things like "Mutants burn in hell." And "Time to fix nature's greatest mistake."

It was already becoming a rather chaotic affair. Police and riot patrols had been set up across the protest area. Their job was to ensure protesters didn't obstruct traffic or invoke any riots. Although given the way some of them were behaving, it looked like one could start any minute.

"If this keeps up, we are going to need serious backup!" said one police officer.

"Serious backup? Yeah, we'll be calling in the Marines." said another.

"Well if I were you I'd call 'em now," said a third police officer. "They're starting to throw stuff and when people throw stuff it usually means it's gonna get ugly real quick."

Indeed, a few restless protesters had started throwing rocks and other debris, causing vehicles to swerve and bystanders to run for cover. The police were growing restless as well. They started pushing through the crowd pinning down some of the protesters, namely the ones that were throwing things. But the threat of arrest didn't keep them from chanting and protesting, voicing their opinions on the mutant issue.

The situation was getting tense. All it would take was the right push and a full-blown riot would break out. That push came in the form of an unexpected presence.

From the shadows of a nearby building, a lone figure had been watching the protests develop. He watched with a mix of anger and resentment. These people were not just protesting against something controversial, they were protesting against his very existence. He was a mutant and not one that was easily concealed either. He stood well over seven feet tall with a large, muscular body. But what really stuck out were the curved bony horns that protruded from his skull. He also possessed superhuman strength and stamina.

He had made his home under the streets of Washington DC. For these people to be protesting here wasn't just disrespecting his kind, it was disrespecting his home as well.

'Stupid, ignorant humans! You show up in my city, ruin my mid-day stroll and have the balls to yell out against my kind? That pisses me off. And when I get pissed off, people get hurt.'

The horned mutant tapped a walkie talkie clipped to his waist. "Battering Ram to U-Go Girl," he spoke into the device, "time to crack some skulls."

With those last words, the horned mutant boldly leapt into the thick of the protest. He landed between the riot police and the protesters. His sudden presence shocked and horrified both sides.

"Oh my God! What the hell is that thing? It's hideous!" exclaimed one protester.

"Worse! It's a mutant!" exclaimed another.

"You think I'm ugly? You people ever look in a mirror lately?" spat the mutant.

"Go back to where you came from, freak!" shouted one of the braver protesters.

And then, out of nowhere, two more figures appeared. One was a pretty red-haired girl of about nineteen or twenty with light blue skin. Her hands rested on the shoulders of a young African-American teenaged boy.

"We're home you brain-damaged orangutans!" spat the girl. "This city is our home! If you think you can call us out you're asking for it!"

"Bring it on, mutie skank!" shouted a female protester.

"Oh, you're one to talk, trailer trash!" the girl shouted back.

"That's it, you're so going down!" The female protester lunged at the blue-skinned mutant, but the other girl was too quick for her, and the next thing she knew, she was sprawled on the pavement, blood gushing from her nose.

"What the hell did you do to my girlfriend?" demanded another protester.

"That was your girlfriend?" the blue-skinned girl smirked. "Where'd you find her, the local whore house?"

"You oughta shut your mouth, mutie bitch." The man reached under his shirt and pulled out a knife, jabbing it toward the blue-skinned girl. "Or somebody might just cut your tongue - aaaaaaaauuuug!"

The knife-wielding protester let out a pained scream as a thin, bony spike pierced his arm. The teenager who had arrived with the girl grinned from ear to ear.

"Maybe you should take your own advice." he said.

That was the last straw. As soon as the spike had hit the protester, chaos erupted. The protest turned into a full-blown riot. Some fled the scene, not wanting to take on the dangerous mutants. Others crowded around to get in on the action, looking to attack the mutants before they hurt anybody else. That was a bad move on their part. The mutants were much stronger than they thought.

The young blue-skinned girl knew how to fight, and she fought dirty. One male protester let out a blood curdling shriek as she plunged her knee into his groin, hitting a very sensitive area. Another female protester who looked very pregnant tried to take a few swings at her, but the girl delivered a hard kick to her stomach, sending the woman sprawling onto the ground, crying out in pain. The horned mutant showed his strength by grabbing two burly protesters and slamming their heads together, knocking them out cold. The third mutant was throwing bony spikes left and right, and every one of them hit their target.

The riot police were forced to break their line and go into full riot mode. Some broke off to handle the enraged protesters. Others tried to break it up between the mutants and the swarm of angry humans looking to vent their frustrations on them. The streets were soon filled with swarms of people. Traffic came to a halt and the chants devolved into a mess of panicked screams.

"It's happening! The mutants are attacking!"

"The human race is doomed!"

While all this was going on, a news helicopter hovered overhead. It was an ominous sight, seeing waves of people fill the streets. Some even ran into traffic, banging on cars, begging their occupants to help them.

"If you're just joining us, we're live in downtown DC where yet another anti-mutant riot has broken out. This is the third incident in the last six months. The protests have swelled to new levels and mutant responses are becoming more forceful. People are demanding to know what will be done about the mutant issue, but the government seems to be at a loss as to what should be done."

[hr]

Washington DC – present day

"Ladies and gentlemen, Senator Robert Kelly."

Hundreds of citizens applauded as Senator Kelly stepped up to the podium that had been set up in the same area the riots had taken place. Even though months had passed, the place still showed signs of damage. A few of the protesters who had been involved in the riots had returned, and it was easy to see they were still traumatized.

"Citizens, I stand before you a changed man," Senator Kelly spoke into the microphone, and everybody fell silent. "I have lived my entire life believing that our society was safe. I believed the news reports when they said that crime rates were dropping. I no longer felt I had to keep my door locked all the time."

Kelly paused and scanned the crowd. The people seemed to be hanging on his every word, which was exactly what he was hoping for. If there was anything Robert Kelly was good at, it was playing on other people's emotions.

"However, recent events have opened my eyes," he continued. We are now faced with a terrifying new threat, the threat of mutants. Mutants walk among us every day. There may be some mutants here at this very moment. They possess incredible power. Power that could easily be used to destroy us all if they wanted to. I have seen this first hand. Their powers make them think they are above the rest of us. Above our rules, above our laws, and above our rights as citizens of this great country."

The crowd erupted in cheers, and Kelly waited for a few seconds before he spoke again.

"They believe they can do whatever they want wherever they want, to whomever they want. So far, your leaders have done nothing to deal with this issue, but let me assure you that I will!"

Kelly slammed his fist down on the podium as the crowd once again erupted in cheers and applauded wildly.

"It is with your safety and well-being in mind that I hereby announcement my candidacy for President of the United States of America!"

The crowd exploded into happy cheers and shouts as Kelly waved to them. He then stepped out from behind the podium and started shaking hands with his many supporters.

[hr]

Xavier Institute for Higher Learning, Westchester, New York

In his study, Professor Charles Xavier watched Senator Kelly's televised speech with growing trepidation. He held his chin as the images of the Washington riots flashed across the screen before switching back to the pretty dark-haired reporter.

"That was the speech given by Senator Robert Kelly in Washington this morning. Senator Kelly also went on to say that he is in the process of writing up the Mutant Registration Act. If this bill is passed, mutants living in the United States will be forced to register with the government. Any mutant who refuses to register will be arrested and detained. Kelly says he does not feel that this is a form of discrimination. This is merely a way of keeping an eye on the bad apples, as it were. And speaking of the riots, the three mutants involved in the attack still have not been found. Police say they will still search for them, but it looks like they've managed to disappear. For Channel eight news, I'm Trish Tilby."

"Oo, that's not good, is it?"

Xavier didn't even flinch at the sound of Scott Summers' voice. He had sensed him enter his study a few seconds before. Scott was a tall, well-built young man with short, dark brown hair, and blue eyes which were obscured by the Ruby Quartz glasses he wore. He possessed the ability to shoot deadly concussive beams from his eyes, and due to a brain injury as a result of a plane crash, he was unable to control his abilities. That was why he wore special glasses.

"I honestly don't know, Scott," Xavier sighed wearily. "I do think they should be brought to justice, but at the same time I fear of what might happen to them in custody."

Scott sat down on one of the tasteful white leather sofas and stared at the television screen. "All he's doing is stirring the pot."

"Well, exploiting the fears and prejudices of the common man is hardly uncharted territory in the realm of politics."

"Isn't there anything we can do about this? I mean, we have to speak up and defend ourselves."

"On the surface that would seem like an ideal solution. However, I don't think that exposing ourselves to that kind of publicity in this stage of our existence would be prudent."

Scott sighed. "I guess you're right. It just sucks that we have to just sit here and take it."

"I know, Scott. Nonetheless, we must exercise patience. I fear this may only be the beginning."

"You mean, it's going to get worse?" Scott asked.

Xavier nodded. "Unfortunately, yes. But the best we can do is be optimistic about our situation. That's why I decided to reopen the Institute."

"About that," Scott began, trying to choose his words carefully. This was a sore subject for all of them, Xavier especially. But the question needed to be asked. "do you really think it's a good idea to reopen the school so soon after, you know…"

"I have been asking myself the same question," Xavier replied. "and I admit I have had my doubts. But now is as good a time as any, what with Senator Kelly running for President. Mutants need a safe place to learn how to control their gifts. And with everything that happened, I feel I need to help them as best I can. They won't have any support out in society, and I can't allow any mutant to go through that alone."

"It's not that I'm against your plan, Professor," said Scott. "I'm all for it. I'm just not sure how everybody else feels about it. I mean, I know Jean's fine with it, but I'm not sure about Ororo…uh…Ms. Munroe and the others."

"Ororo and I have already discussed it," Xavier said. "In fact, I would say she was the one who convinced me to do it."

"What about everyone else? Did you talk to them?"

"Hank, Emma, John and Sean have their own issues to deal with for the time being, so I won't bother them about this. And Logan, well you know how good he is at not being found."

"Did you talk to Stacy?" Scott asked.

Xavier sighed. "I don't think I could get through to her even if I tried. Kevin's death was hard on all of us, but I believe it was hardest on her."

"Yeah," Scott said. "I know she was pretty angry with you when she left. But I can't help wondering what happened to her, you know? I hope she's okay."

Xavier was about to reply, but then his phone rang. "Excuse me," he said, guiding his wheelchair over to his desk and lifted the receiver to his ear. "Hello?"

While Professor Xavier was on the phone, Scott stood and walked over to the door, intending on going to the library to finish the rest of his homework. But as he stepped out into the hall, Xavier called after him.

"Scott, wait."

Scott turned toward his mentor. "What is it, Professor?"

"Go find Jean and meet me out front. I think we're about to get our first student."

[hr]

Caldecott County, Mississippi – 2 years ago

'So confused…so lost… who am I?'

Frantic thoughts and emotions raced through the mind of a thirteen-year-old girl as she ran down yet another dirt road of her neighbourhood. Or was it her neighbourhood? It didn't feel like hers, yet it was so familiar.

She had developed rather well for a girl her age. Tall and shapely with pale skin, rich, auburn hair with two distinctive white streaks in the front and green eyes. She was dressed in long pants and a long-sleeved shirt, very strange considering it was still quite warm out. Stranger still, she wore gloves on her hands. Well, one glove. The other one had gotten lost somehow, but she couldn't remember how that had happened.

Her eyes darted from one house to another. She knew she definitely hadn't been here before, but at the same time she recognized the place. And it was not a good place. This was where she did most of her work. Sure, the guys here were sleazy and couldn't be trusted. Hell, one of them had even kept her chained up in a shack for a whole week where she served as a sex slave to him and his filthy, inbred friends.

The girl shook her head violently in order to clear her already confused mind of those awful thoughts. She couldn't tell who those memories belonged to. She suspected it was Kristi's older sister Brandi. The girl had been nothing but trouble since shortly after turning sixteen. But there were a lot of people at the dance, so it really could have been anyone. And for all she knew, this Brandi person and the dance could be someone else's memories.

Whatever had happened, it had happened so fast she couldn't remember anything. None of this made any sense. Several images surged through her mind and many of them were conflicting. She tried to think of her name, her family, and where she lived. But all she ended up with was a mental blank. Answers to the most basic of questions eluded her and the more she tried the worse the pain in her head got.

"Ugh!" she cried, falling to her knees in the middle of the street. "I can't remember. I can't remember anything."

Suddenly, a strangely familiar voice gave her answer to one of her questions.

"Anna Marie?"

"Huh?"

Startled at the sudden presence, she turned to see a pretty dark-haired woman dressed in a rather expensive business suit. Somehow, the girl recognized her, but from where she didn't know.

"You…you know me?"

"Of course I do," said the woman with a smile. "Anna Marie Kellogg. I adopted you from a home for abandoned children when you were about four. That would make me your mother."

"My mother? But I don't have…"

She was cut off when she watched the woman's form literally melt away, revealing a tall, red-haired woman dressed in some kind of leather outfit. Her skin was a dark blue and her eyes were yellow, similar to those of a cat. Anna's eyes widened in shock. She may have been dazed, but she knew enough to understand that an appearance like that wasn't normal. Yet at the same time the site of the strange woman triggered a wave of new memories.

"Don't you remember?" said the woman. "You've been living here with my friend Irene for the last three years. You lived in Georgia before that."

"I did?" Anna asked, still unsure of what to make of all this. "I can't remember."

"It'll come back to you in a few hours," the woman said. "It always does. Why don't you come back home with me."

"You mean this happened before? How? What did I do?"

"I'll explain it to you when you're less confused," said the woman. "It's nothing to be afraid of."

Anna stood there for a moment, unable to think of what else to say. This was all too confusing. She just wanted to go home. Wherever that was.

"Come on," the woman said. "Let's go home. You shouldn't be in this part of town anyway."

Wearily, Anna pulled herself to her feet and slowly began to follow the woman. She didn't know where she was going, but something told her should could trust this woman.

[hr]

"Hey kid," the trucker's gravelly voice jarred the girl from her sleep. "Yer stop is here."

"Hnnnn." She moaned, green eyes peering out from inside the hood covering her head.

Looking through the front window, she saw the city she was in. All it consisted of was a handful of ramshackle buildings that looked like a strong breeze could topple them. One of them had lights on inside and from the shadows in the windows, was probably the only place open at this time of night.

"Thought you were takin' me to Laughlin City?" she said as she turned toward the trucker, her voice carrying a southern accent.

she was going, but she didn't care at this point. She was tired and just wanted to sleep for a while.

"This is Laughlin City," he replied scratching his chin.

"And I thought Caldecott County was a shit hole," she mumbled under her breath, casting another wary eye at the dump she managed to land herself in.

Opening the door, she began to climb out of the vehicle, grabbing her big black duffel bag off the floor.

"Thank you," she said.

And she was truly thankful. Not for the place, but for the ride and for that the fact the fifty plus truck driver hadn't turned out to be a pervert. Not that he would have gotten far if he'd tried to make a pass at her. All it would take was just one touch and he'd be out cold. Of course, that wouldn't come without a price. Anna would end up with his memories floating around in her head.

As soon as she'd jumped off the truck, the driver pulled away causing dirty water to splash all over her calf-length overcoat. Anna shivered as she drew the coat closer to her body and ran to the building, which turned out to be a bar.

The moment she opened the doors, she was assaulted by the combined odours of cigarette smoke, alcohol, sweat, blood and God knew what else.

"Shoulda gone to New York after all," she muttered.

Looking around, her eyes fell upon the cage standing in the centre of the room. It appeared to be the main attraction for everyone in the place. Inside the cage were two men, who were trying their best to pound the living hell out of each other.

As if drawn by an invisible force, Anna found herself wandering over to the cage. Once she was close enough, she was able to get a clearer picture, and it was then she saw him. He was standing with his back to her, having just knocked his opponent to the ground. It didn't look like the poor guy would be getting up any time soon as he was just lying there completely limp.

The man still standing was not that tall, but his muscle structure more than made up for his short stature. Dressed in nothing but a pair of tattered jeans, he was covered in blood. But as there didn't seem to be a scratch on him, Anna assumed it belonged to his opponent. His black hair stuck out in every direction, giving him a ferocious and intensely threatening look. It made Anna think of a wild animal.

Feeling something boring into her she looked up and her green eyes caught his blue ones. She suddenly felt the urge to take a few steps backward, as it seemed to her that his eyes were staring right into her soul.

The cage door opened with a loud clang drawing the man's attention away from her, causing her to let out the breath she didn't know she'd been holding. Turning her own gaze toward the door, she watched as the announcer entered the cage.

"Gentlemen, in all my years, I've never seen anything like that. Are ya gonna let this man walk away with yer money?"

As Anna looked on, another man plodded to the cage. She smiled to herself. Somehow, she had a feeling he wouldn't be walking out of there.

"Whatever ya do," the announcer whispered loud enough for her to hear. "Don't hit him in the balls."

"Fuck off," the challenger said.

Meanwhile, the winner was lounging in his corner of the bar taking a shot of some kind of alcohol that the blond, heavy set, fortysomething waitress had handed him.

Cracking his neck, he turned and walked toward the centre of the cage where the announcer and challenger were waiting. As soon as the obligatory announcement was made, the announcer walked out and the two men began circling each other.

It was the challenger who made the first move. He aimed for the winner's groin, but barely missed and hit just below his belt buckle.

'Damn, if that ain't a death wish, I don't know what is.' Thought Anna.

The challenger went to throw the next punch, but the winner caught his fist and squeezed it as hard as he could.

"Aaaaaug!" the challenger's cry rang out.

And in a moment, the winner had laid him out with a good hard punch to the gut. The challenger, like his predecessor, fell to the floor with a resounding thud.

Moments later, the announcer and two other men entered the cage and the loser was carted out on a stretcher. Knowing that no one else was brave or stupid enough to challenge the winner, the announcer stepped forward.

"Ladies and gentlemen, tonight's winner and still king of the cage, the Wolverine!"

'That name suits him.' Anna thought as she turned away from the cage.

Almost immediately the crowd started to thin. Now that the main attraction was over, most of the patrons were going home for the night. Though how they'd get there was a mystery. The majority of them were so drunk they could hardly walk.

Walking to the main counter, Anna dug into the pockets of her coat and pulled out what little money she had. One Canadian dollar plus change which she had snatched off the floor of the truck while the driver was getting her a burger. She frowned as she read the menu board and saw that the cheapest item was more than double than what she held in her gloved hand. Exhaling wearily, she asked for the only thing she knew she could afford.

"Can I get some water?"

"Want it on the rocks?" asked the pudgy bartender.

"Just plain," Anna replied.

As the bartender slid her glass of water across the counter, Anna couldn't prevent herself from looking at the large tip jar. She could certainly use some of that money. One dollar and some loose change wouldn't get her very far, and judging by some of the characters she saw in this place, she decided it was best not to ask one of the locals for a ride. She may be a dangerous mutant who could suck the life out of a person with just one touch, but it was always better to be safe than sorry. Unfortunately, the bartender appeared to be a mind reader of sorts, because he suddenly grabbed the tip jar and moved it to the other end of the bar where she couldn't reach it.

'Well, there goes that idea.' Anna thought glumly as she sat down at the cleanest table she could find.

She slumped in her seat as she tried to figure out where to go from here. She had no money, hadn't eaten since lunch and hadn't slept well for the last week or so. She was beginning to realize that this was a really, really stupid idea. At least if she'd run off to a large city, she could pick the pockets of strangers, preferably the wealthier ones since they had tons of money anyway. She could use it to rent a cheap motel room. But in this dump? She doubted she could even find a park bench to crash on.

Anna was so deep in thought she didn't notice the Wolverine sit down in the chair across from her. Only when she looked up from her now empty glass did she see him. He now had a wad of cash in his hand which he was shoving into the pockets of his leather jacket. The thought of asking him for a few bucks did cross her mind, but she quickly pushed it away. She was not going to be so pathetic as to ask a complete stranger for money. And she sure as hell wasn't dumb enough to try and pick pocket him.

"Ya want something else, honey? Or are ya just stickin' with the water?"

The bartender's irritating, scratchy voice interrupted Anna's wallowing.

"I'm fine, thanks," said Anna tonelessly.

Suddenly, the Wolverine's latest challenger came trudging in from who knew where accompanied by a friend. Both were piss drunk and judging by their expressions, looking for a fight.

"Hey," he barked at the Wolverine. "You got somethin' that belongs to me."

"Don't know what the hell yer talkin' about," the Wolverine replied.

The man approached the Wolverine.

"I know what you are," the man said. "Nobody comes out of a fight and doesn't have anything to show for it. Now give me my money back."

"You keep this up, bub, you're gonna lose somethin' else," warned the Wolverine.

The next moment all hell broke loose. The man produced a rather nasty-looking knife and lunged at Wolverine.

"Watch out!" Anna cried instinctively, but there was no need for her warning, as Wolverine sprang into action.

He had literally pinned the man to one of the wooden support beams with two twelve-inch blades on either side of his neck while a third one emerged from between the knuckles on each hand. Anna decided that now would be the best time to leave. She did not want to be witness to what she was sure would be a very messy bar fight. She turned and ran to the door, stopping to look behind her when she heard the unmistakeable sound of a gun being cocked. Turning around, Anna saw the bartender aim a double barrel shotgun at Wolverine's head.

"Get out of my bar, freak!" he warned.

In one swift movement, the blades on one of the Wolverine's hands sliced through the gun like a hot knife through butter. Anna took that moment to race out into the frigid night, desperately searching for somewhere to hide until this whole thing blew over. She was relieved to see a truck parked in the lot with a trailer attached to it covered by a tarp. Anna lifted the tarp and crawled under it. She'd been sitting there for about five minutes or so when the truck started moving. She finally let out a sigh of relief. She hoped it would take her as far away from Laughlin City as possible.

"Ow!" she grunted as the truck suddenly came to a halt, causing her to hit her head on the side of the trailer.

Moments later, the tarp was lifted and Anna felt strong hands lift her up by the arms. She looked up only to find herself staring into the face of Wolverine.

"What the hell?" she protested as he threw her to the cold, wet ground. "Excuse me!"

"Mind telling me what the hell you were doing in my trailer?" he growled.

"I needed a ride," she said simply. "I have no money and no way of getting out of here. Figured you'd take pity on a runaway."

"Well I don't, so get out of here."

"And where am I supposed to go?" she asked as she pulled herself to her feet.

"Don't know," he said over his shoulder as he began walking off toward the truck.

"Don't know or don't care?"

"Pick one," he said as he opened the driver side door.

"I saved your life."

"No you didn't."

"Oh, come on," Anna said. "I'm cold, I'm hungry and I haven't slept in Lord knows how long. At least give me a ride to the next town over. I'll give you all my worldly possessions if I have to."

She held up her duffel bag. Suddenly, Wolverine took it from her hands.

"Get in," he said.

Anna hastily opened the passenger door and climbed into the warm truck. Relief washed over her as the vehicle started to move again.

'Yeah, I'm definitely going to New York this time.' Anna thought. 'Or at least some place where everybody isn't related.'

[hr]

Next up, Gatherings Part II. Professor Xavier meets Anna and an old friend returns. Also, what's going on in Germany? Remember to review, because reviewing is good.


	2. Issue 2: The Return

X-Men: Generation Next

AN: Onward and upward! Time for the next issue! But first, a thank you to those who have taken the time to review.

[hr]

Issue 2: The Return

[hr]

Eastern Canada – 30 years ago

It was just after four in the morning as Logan stood on the porch of a secluded log cabin deep in the Canadian wilderness, puffing on what had to be his third cigar that morning. The sun was slowly rising, but he paid no attention to it. Normally when he was up at this hour it was because he was restless, grumpy, or his sleep had been interrupted by yet another nightmare that left him in a cold sweat. But this time was different. In fact, he was in a pretty good mood, at least as good a mood as someone with his personality traits could be in. It had been a long time since he felt this kind of peace, and he relished it. There were no gunshots, no blood, and no memories of doctors coming at him with their syringes, no dark vendettas and no horrifying nightmares. Today, he was just a guy enjoying his solitude.

As he put out his cigar in a metal ash tray, he sensed a warm presence come up behind him. He grinned as he felt two slender arms wrap around his waist. He knew who it was. He didn't need to turn around to see her. He would know her scent anywhere. It belonged to a woman with the uncanny talent to make everything in his life less complicated. All his anger, fear and other negative emotions melted away when he was with her.

"Heya gorgeous. You're up early," he greeted.

"Well, I'm a light sleeper," she replied in a loving tone. "And besides, the bed was cold without you."

"Oh yeah?" Logan said, turning his gaze toward the beautiful First Nations woman. "And here I thought you were all warrior. Now you can't even sleep without me."

"Oh, I never said that," said the woman. "I just said the bed was cold."

Silence passed between the two of them as they stood there, gazing up at the sky. The sun was up now, and birds of all kinds could be heard chirping and cawing and making all sorts of noise in the trees around them. It was fairly chilly out and even though the two of them weren't wearing much clothing, the cold didn't seem to bother them.

If Logan could have anything in the whole world, it would be to stay here for the rest of his life, however long that was, with Katherine Silverfox by his side. And if it were another life, he probably could have what he wanted. Unfortunately, in this one, he was not so lucky. His past had a way of catching up with him, and no matter how far and how fast he ran, it was always going to follow him. He knew it would only be a matter of time before someone came looking for him, and that someone was always out to kill him, or anyone close to him. He would be damned if he let anything happen to Kate. He would fight with everything he had before anyone could hurt her.

Logan often wondered how a guy like him could wind up with a girl like Kate. Someone with his reputation certainly didn't deserve an angel like her. Yet here she was, holding him in her arms and embracing him and the many burdens that came with him.

"Are you okay?" Kate asked with a concerned tone, "You seem more distant than usual."

"Can't sneak anything past you, can I?"

"You may be a man of many mysteries, but you're no match for a woman's intuition," she said coyly, "Now are you going to tell me or do I have to use more persuasive methods?"

"I'll save ya the trouble," he said as he placed his hand over hers, "I've just been thinkin' a lot about us lately. You know I ain't good with words so I haven't been able to say what I've been meaning to say for a long time."

"Oh? And what's that?" she asked curiously.

Logan turned to face the beautiful woman. Standing in the soft sunlight, she was absolutely breathtaking. Everything about her captivated him from her long, dark hair to her intense, brown eyes. She had all the right curves in all the right areas. It really showed in the white cotton nightgown she was wearing.

"You've done a lot for me, darlin'. Hell, I hate to think where I might have ended up if I hadn't met you. You gave me a chance to get away from all the shit that made my life one fight after another. Even if it won't last forever, I just want to thank you for doing this for me."

"I don't deserve all the credit," she said as she leaned in closer to him, "You saved my life too, remember? It's only fair that I make it up to you."

"Yeah," said Logan. "It's the first good thing I've done in a long time."

"I don't believe that's true," said Kate.

"I'm serious," said Logan, "I've done some really terrible shit. Hell, I can't even begin to count all the people that died because of me. Half of 'em didn't even deserve it."

"We've all done things we regret," said Kate, "But that doesn't make us bad people. I know you've been told all your life that you're a monster, that you have no conscience. That's bullshit, Logan. Pure bullshit. You're a good man. Nothing you did in your past will ever change that."

"Yeah, well my past has a way of bitin' me in the ass," said Logan.

Suddenly, a flock of birds chirping away in a nearby tree went silent, and as though sensing danger, they all took off into the sky. Kate looked on in confusion.

"Well, that was odd," she said, "I wonder what got them so worked up."

"Kate, get inside."

The seriousness of Logan's tone and the expression on his face told Kate that something was not right. She knew not to question him and did what he told her to do. But as she turned to go back inside the cabin, she suddenly gasped as she collapsed to the porch, blood gushing from her chest.

"Aw," she groaned as her body made contact with the wood.

"Kate! No!"

Logan dropped to his knees and examined the wound. His body went rigid as he felt that familiar primal rage slowly make its way to the surface. Logan had seen bullet wounds before, and Kate had definitely been shot. He may not have had much medical training, but he knew she was seriously injured. Kate was struggling to breathe, which meant that the bullet could have punctured her lung. He needed to get her to a hospital fast, but first he had to stem the bleeding or she wouldn't last long.

"Hang in there, darlin'," said Logan as he ripped off a piece of his T-shirt and used it as a bandage.

Unfortunately, he wouldn't get the chance to help her. Something sharp pierced his neck, and Logan was knocked backwards. He reached up to feel his neck. Instead of a bullet, he felt a long dart. A tranquilizer dart, no less, and that could only mean one thing.

He had only seconds before the drug took effect. But he wasn't thinking about that. All he could see was the image of Kate's lifeless form lying there on the ground, and that primal rage Logan had tried so hard to hold back surfaced.

He popped his claws and threw himself at the one responsible for this.

"Raaaa!" he roared as the claws on his right hand hit something soft. Warm blood gushed from the soldier he just stabbed, and the man dropped to the ground.

But before Logan could hurt him any more than he had, the drug he'd been shot with kicked in, and his arms and legs felt numb. He stumbled backward and fell to the ground. Two shadowy figures descended over him. He felt metal shackles being clamped around his wrists, and he could hear the voices of the men standing over him.

"We better get him back to base soon," said one of them, "With a healing factor like his, the drugs will wear off in no time and we'll have a pissed off Wolverine on our hands."

Logan desperately tried to fight back as heavy chains were being tied around his legs, but it was no use. The sedative in that dart was powerful, having completely paralyzed his limbs. And seconds later, his vision went dark, and he felt himself drift off to sleep, the image of Kate still on his mind, an image that would haunt him for the rest of his life.

[hr]

The Sliding Doors Motel – Michigan – present day

Logan sat up in bed, his heart pounding and his body covered in a cold sweat. It took him a few seconds to remember where he was, but when he finally did, he was relieved to be here. The motel room wasn't exactly five-star, but it wasn't bad either. He'd slept in worse. The room held two beds a couch, a small bathroom that was currently occupied by his young travelling companion, and a window that overlooked the parking lot. The place was drafty, the beds were creaky and the walls were paper thin, although Logan would still be able to hear the people next door even if they were constructed out of adamantium.

Logan slid out of bed and headed to where he'd put his suitcase. He didn't see the need for unpacking since he never really stayed in the same place for long. At least, it had been that way until six months ago. Now he had someone else to think about. In fact, Anna's presence had got him thinking, and eventually Logan knew he needed to make a decision. Anna was just a kid. She needed a stable home environment. She needed to go to school and get a good education so she could do something with her life. She needed structure. And he knew someone who could give her that.

Charles Xavier had helped him out when he needed it. He knew he would do the same for Anna. So while Anna was in the shower, he stepped out and made the phone call to his old home, The Xavier Institute for Higher Learning.

The phone rang twice before Logan heard a familiar voice at the end of the line. "Hello?"

"Hey, Chuck," Logan spoke into the receiver.

"Logan? Is that really you?"

"Yeah, last time I checked," Logan replied.

"It's so good to hear from you, old friend," Xavier said, "How have you been? I'm sorry I haven't kept in contact with you. I should have tried…"

"Don't apologize, Chuck," Logan cut him off. "You know me better than anyone else. I'm good at disappearing."

"That you are," said Xavier, "But we've all missed you."

"Considering I wasn't exactly on good terms with some people when I left, I find that hard to believe."

[hr]

Xavier Institute – 4 years ago

"So that's it, then? You're just going to up and leave?"

A heavy sigh escaped Logan as he slowly turned to face the angry seventeen-year-old girl who addressed him. She bore a tall, shapely figure with ebony skin, long, white hair and striking blue eyes. The two of them were standing in the front hall of the Xavier mansion. Logan had a bag slung over one shoulder that contained some articles of clothing along with all his worldly possessions.

"Look, 'Ro," said Logan, "I don't have a choice."

"Yes, you do," snapped Ororo Munroe, "You have lots of choices! You're just taking the easy way out!"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means you're running away from your problems, like you always do," Ororo replied, "I don't know if you noticed, Logan, but you're not the only one hurting here!"

"I know," said Logan, "Believe me, I know. That's why I'm leaving. What good would I be to the rest of you if I can't help myself?"

"And you think running off to who knows where is going to help?"

Logan nodded. "I know yer pissed at me, Ororo…"

"That doesn't even begin to describe how I feel right now," Ororo interrupted him, "But whatever. I just don't care anymore."

Her voice sounded choked, as though she were about to cry. Logan reached out a hand to pat her on the arm, but she jerked away.

"Don't touch me!" she snapped. "Just don't! Just…just go away! Just run away like the coward you are!"

Before Logan could say anything, Ororo turned and stormed off down the hall. Thunder rumbled outside. A sure sign that Ororo was really unhappy. Logan stood there for a few seconds, staring at the spot where she had been standing.

"She's not angry at you, Logan," Logan heard Xavier's voice behind him, "She's just angry at the situation."

"No, I'm pretty sure she's pissed off at me," said Logan, "She wasn't the first and she ain't gonna be the last. But I have to go, Chuck. I need to know what happened to me."

"I know," said Xavier, "And for what it's worth, I think you're doing the right thing. You're not a coward, Logan. Far from it. In fact, you're one of the bravest men I know. And despite what she said to you, Ororo knows that too."

"Thanks, Chuck," said Logan, "I appreciate that."

"I wish you the best of luck, old friend," said Xavier, "And remember that this will always be your home, and you are free to return whenever you need to."

Logan thanked Xavier again before turning and walking out of the mansion, a place he had called home for the past five years. He crossed the long, winding driveway to where he'd parked his truck, climbed in, started the engine and pulled away from the Xavier Institute. He didn't know when he'd be back, or if he'd be back at all, but he wouldn't think about that now. His only focus was finding answers to his past. And he would start by returning to Canada, where it all began.

[hr]

Sliding Doors Motel

"Ororo wasn't angry at you, Logan. She was angry at the situation," Xavier repeated the phrase he had said to Logan four years ago, "She misses you, Logan, and she's worried about you. We all are."

"That's good to hear," said Logan, "But I don't know if I'm coming back."

"That's understandable," said Xavier, "But will you at least come visit?

"That's what I was callin' you about," Logan said, "I have someone with me that could really use yer help."

"Oh?" said Xavier.

"She's a runaway," Logan began, "I picked her up back in Laughlin City. Said she hitched her way there all the way from Mississippi."

"She's a mutant, isn't she?"

"Yeah," replied Logan, "And she's got some pretty weird powers."

"What can she do?" asked Xavier.

"The way she explained it, when she touches someone she sucks the life out of them," Logan said, "She absorbs their memories and stuff like that, and if they happen to be a mutant she absorbs their powers too."

"That's interesting," said Xavier, "Did she tell you anything else?"

"No," replied Logan, "She doesn't like to talk about it."

There was a brief moment of silence at the other end before Xavier spoke up again. "When do you plan on bringing her to the Institute?"

"We'll be there some time tomorrow," replied Logan.

"Good," said Xavier, "I'll have Jean and Scott meat you two at the front."

"Okay," said Logan, "We should be there after lunch."

"I'm glad you've decided to come back, Logan," said Xavier, "Even if it's just for a visit."

"Logan! We're out of toothpaste!" Anna could be heard from inside the room.

"I gotta go, Chuck," Logan said, "Looks like we've got a crisis here."

"And apparently we ran out of toilet paper!"

"All right then," Xavier said, "It was good to hear from you again, and we look forward to your visit."

Once the other end of the line went dead, Logan closed the flip phone and tucked it back into his jacket. He would tell Anna about his plan later on tonight. He knew she probably wouldn't be too happy about it, but it was for her own good. He hadn't been living under a rock. He knew about that mutant hating jackass Robert Kelly and his leghumpers. He knew about the riots and had experienced firsthand the horrific ways in which mutants were treated.

He wasn't trying to be overprotective. Okay, maybe he was, but he had a damn good reason for that. The last thing he wanted was for anyone else to endure what he had. It was a hell he wouldn't wish on his worst enemy, let alone an innocent kid. He had to admit though, he would miss her.

"Logan!"

Well, maybe not so much. "Heard ya the first time, stripes!" he shouted back.

[hr]

rural Germany – two years ago

"Stefan?"

His voice was barely audible over the trickling of the fountain standing in the centre of the large courtyard, although the reason why he couldn't speak was probably due to the fact a giant lump had formed in his throat at the sight of the poor woman lying there. She couldn't be more than twenty-two, he guessed, and she must have been so beautiful and vibrant when she was alive. Now she resembled a broken doll lying there on the blood-stained ground, her blond hair in a tangled mess around her head matted with her own blood. Bruises covered her face and various other places where she'd been hit and kicked repeatedly. Her arm appeared to be broken, but he couldn't be sure.

But the truly horrifying thing was the bruising around her neck. One didn't have to be an expert to know that she had been strangled to death.

"Stefan?" He felt heavy all of a sudden, so heavy that Kurt couldn't hold him, and they sank to the ground together. Stefan's head fell limply onto his shoulders, and that was when Kurt saw his neck. No, no, he couldn't have. Not Kurt. He loved his brother. He loved him, he really did.

'But you had to do it.' He heard a voice from within. 'You had to.'

"Stefan?" As much as Kurt didn't want to admit it, his brother had grown increasingly strange over the last few months, ever since their father died. He had become distant and nervous, and would often stay in his room for days on end. At first, Kurt thought it was just grief. Eric Wagner had been a wonderful father and husband, and his death had been so sudden. The entire family hadn't quite gotten over the shock of losing him so soon. Everybody had been so wrapped up in their own grief they couldn't or wouldn't talk to each other about it. So it was no surprise that Stefan had retreated into himself.

Every time Stefan did make a public appearance, his appearance had drastically changed. He had lost weight, his fingernails had been bitten down to the quick, he had dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep, and he was ghostly pale. He hardly spoke to anyone, and when he did he was usually abrupt. As weeks passed, he became more irritable and would snap at people for no reason. Kurt often found himself walking on egg shells around him, for fear of setting him off. Sometimes he would try his best to avoid him, who didn't sit well with Kurt, being the kind and compassionate individual he was.

However, he knew there was not much he could do to help Stefan, and forcing him to talk about things he wasn't ready to talk about would only push him away. So Kurt just let him be. Oh, how he regretted that decision. Had he known what he knew now, he could have prevented this nightmare.

Kurt didn't know when Stefan started disappearing at night. If he had to guess, he would say it was about three weeks after Father died. He didn't think anything about the missing women at first. Surely it was only a coincidence that a young woman would go missing every time Stefan left the house. He'd known Stefan all his life, and he never imagined that he was capable of hurting anyone. He had always been a gentle child. Whenever he found a spider in the house, he would always gently wrap it up in paper and release it outside rather than smashing it right then and there. He loved animals. He would even give thanks to the cow or pig that had been sacrificed to feed them before they ate dinner. Hardly traits one would find in a murderer.

But then again, maybe this was all a front he was putting up. Maybe he had been pretending all this time. As Kurt clutched Stefan's limp figure to his chest, he could only selfishly wish that he hadn't come looking for him at all.

"Why?" Kurt whispered. "Why did you do it?"

He knew he wasn't going to get an answer. Stefan was gone, taking all his dark secrets to the grave with him, and it was all Kurt's fault. He had reacted instinctively, grabbing his brother by the neck. Everything else had been a blur. He couldn't remember hearing the sickening crunch of the bones in Stefan's neck as he twisted it. Kurt wasn't even sure how he'd managed to do it. Had he always had the strength or was it just the adrenaline pumping through his body?

Kurt suddenly felt exhausted, and the lifeless form of his brother slipped from his grasp, landing on the cobblestones with a soft thud. Kurt just stayed where he was, amber eyes looking to the clear sky above. He knew he had to do something. He couldn't just leave him there. He had to go home. He had to get help. He had to….

A blood-curdling shriek echoed through the night, and Kurt looked up only to see a little girl standing by the fountain, eyes wide in horror at the gruesome sight before her. Oh God, she had seen them. Willing himself to stand, Kurt slowly edged toward the child, extending a hand to her. But the girl only shrieked and backed away.

"Demon!" the girl screamed. "Murderer!"

Kurt's heart sank. She thought he'd done it. She thought he was the one who killed the woman.

"No," Kurt choked out, "My brother…"

But he never got to finish as doors to the surrounding houses flew open and several people stepped out onto their porches. The girl made a mad dash for one of the houses, and Kurt could only watch as she screamed for help, and all the neighbours came to her aid.

As soon as they had laid eyes on Kurt, he knew he was in trouble.

"Oh my god! What is that thing?"

"It's a demon!"

"It murdered those women!"

"Somebody kill it!"

Too exhausted to run, Kurt could only look on as a group of villagers advanced toward him.

"No! You're making a mistake! I didn't kill anyone! It…it was my brother!"

But they didn't seem to hear him, or if they did, they didn't believe him. Kurt heard the all-too-familiar sound of a knife being drawn, and his gaze landed on the young man wielding it. He couldn't be much older than Stefan, and the look in his eyes was one of intense hatred as he stepped closer to Kurt. Kurt was doomed. He knew it and there was nothing more he could do about it. All he could think of was his mother. How awful it would be for her to find out that both her sons had been killed, one at the hands of the other. And if it came out that one of them had murdered all those women, he didn't think she would be able to handle it. She was fragile enough as it was, what with the sudden death of her husband.

Kurt closed his eyes, expecting the blade to slice its way across his throat. He hoped it would be quick and painless. He hoped he would die instantly. He did not want to lie there for hours slowly bleeding to death. But then a strange sensation came over him. The best way Kurt could describe it at that moment was it was like his body was being pulled into a tunnel. It only lasted for a second or two, and when Kurt felt normal again, he opened his eyes and found himself perched high in a tree. How had he gotten up here?

But Kurt didn't have time to ponder that question.

"What happened?" Kurt heard a voice from below.

"I don't know. He just … disappeared."

"Disappeared? How is that even possible?"

"I don't care how he got away! We need to find this monster before he kills again!"

Kurt stayed as still as possible, hoping and praying that no one would look up in his direction. It was unlikely anyone would see him anyway. It was too dark and he was too high up. But Kurt wasn't going to take any chances.

As he listened to the villagers searching the surrounding land below him, Kurt knew he needed to get as far away from here as possible. He couldn't go back home, not after what he had done to Stefan. His family would never forgive him. And with the way he looked, he couldn't go out in public. He had to stay hidden, stay in the shadows.

He could run away to one of the larger cities. It was surprisingly easy to stay hidden in a heavily populated area. All those alleyways, abandoned buildings and dark corners would certainly give him some protection. If he needed to get food or clothing or anything like that, he could just go out at night.

But for the moment, Kurt was too tired to do anything. He decided to try and get some sleep before he left. He would have to be up before sunrise if he wanted to sneak away without being seen. Hopefully, by that time, the villagers would have given up searching for him.

[hr]

My apologies for the loooong wait. It took me forever to write this.

Next up, Anna gets settled in, Xavier gets a visit from an old friend and the circus comes to town! Isn't that exciting?


End file.
